


Until you

by Ever-so-reylo (Ever_So_Reylo)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Kylo Ren, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arranged Marriage, Canon-Typical Violence, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Love at First Sight, Mating, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mentions of Infertility, Omega Rey, Possessive Kylo Ren, Power Imbalance, Pregnancy, Protective Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 04:05:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16400981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ever_So_Reylo/pseuds/Ever-so-reylo
Summary: Kylo looks at her, and he smells her, and he thinks,Fuck. He thinks,Yes. He thinks,I didn’t know. I couldn’t have known. And he says: ”You should watch your right side.”





	Until you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raven_maiden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_maiden/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [До тебя](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17405987) by [Scofie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scofie/pseuds/Scofie)
  * Inspired by [The Breath Between Us](https://archiveofourown.org/works/989923) by [fayfayfay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fayfayfay/pseuds/fayfayfay). 



> For Raven, reylo lab co-founder, academic reylo trash, GranDD, thirsty hoe, and good little broad. You're The Best(TM) and I love you unconditionally. Happy birthday!!! ♡♡♡
> 
> *** **WARNING (contains spoilers)** : This fic is set in an A/B/O society in which Omegas have very little power or rights. While everything that happens between Ben and Rey is very consensual, Rey wouldn't be able to withdraw her consent _if_ she wanted to. Please, bear this in mind before deciding whether you want to read ♡. Also this is trash!!!***
> 
> If you speak Russian, [check out this Russian translation of the story!](https://ficbook.net/readfic/7483951)

 

  
When the phone rings, he is in the middle of wiping blood spatter from his forearm with a heart-patterned kitchen towel.

It’s not the call in itself that alarms him, but its timing: Hux and Phasma know better than to try to get in touch with him during a hit. So does everyone in the Ren unit—and most of them have been deployed deep undercover for weeks, with no end in sight to the operation.

It leaves precisely two people who are aware of his number.

Kylo answers the call, holding the phone to his ear as he continues to stare at the body at his feet. He half-heartedly hopes to hear Snoke’s voice.

“Yes.”

There is a moment of static, a brief hesitation that speaks of a faraway caller, of radio waves traveling and satellites hitching. Kylo uses it to make sure that the windpipe of the asshole he just disposed of is indeed crushed, by stepping on it with the sole of his boot.

Then, a hesitant voice emerges from the electromagnetic noise.

“Ben?”

 

…

 

“I want you to meet someone,” his mother tells him when he calls her back from the airport,  after hastily getting rid of his weapons and retrieving new fake documents. Whatever hesitancy Kylo thought he heard, it was clearly just a product of long distance and poor connection. Leia’s voice rings as firm as it ever does. Kylo hasn’t talked with her in several months, and wishes he weren’t doing that now, either. “An Omega.”

“No.”

“ _Yes_.” Iron. As usual.

“No.” He covers his phone’s mic with one hand as he asks the flight attendant for a window seat. His Hungarian is getting rusty—not many chances to practice it lately, since Snoke doesn’t seem to have as many enemies in Central Europe as he once did.

“—is not ideal. She’s an orphan and was court-appointed a Beta guardian until she makes a match, which hasn’t happened yet, and… She needs a way out of her current situation.”

He almost snorts out a laugh. “That’s not me.”

“That’s an Alpha— _any_ Alpha—and you are an Alpha.” On first impression, her tone might sound matter-of-fact. Still, Kylo can hear the same undercurrent of wariness and disapproval that he remembers from when he first presented. _Alphas are—scary, Han. Unpredictable. Violent. Powerful beyond what they can control. And he’s already so…_

“That’s not my concern. There are plenty of Alphas looking for Omegas.” He shifts the strap of his duffel bag until it sits more comfortably on his shoulder. “She’ll be out of whatever _situation_ she’s in, in a heartbeat.”

“And in a worse one?”

“Not my concern,” he repeats.

“Ben.” A pause. “Your grandfather had an Omega.”

It’s a low blow. Even for Leia. “I thought you didn’t want me to be like my grandfather?”

“You are clearly making the same career choices.” He hears her sigh into the speaker—a little too loud not to be expressly meant for him. “Please, Ben. Come home. Meet her. Only one Visit.” He is about to repeat himself for the third time, when Leia adds, somewhat reluctant: “She is... different.”

“I don’t see how—”

“Please, Ben. Please.” By her standards, Leia is positively begging. “It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask of you. Just meet her. One single Visit.”

Kylo hands his counterfeit passport to the security agent, and feels a surge of irritation wash over him.

That’s when he knows that he is going home.

 

…

 

The protection and welfare of Omegas—how to shelter them, defend them from harm, and guarantee their wellbeing—is widely considered one of the great topics of debate in the contemporary world, up there with climate change, income inequality, and large scale conflict. Kylo finds thinking about global warming infinitely more stressful than killing people, never held any interest in the messiness of politics, and has privately believed for years that the Omega designation is nothing but a biological curse. He cannot fathom how it could be otherwise, when Omegas are caged and kept secluded from the day they present until the moment they die.

 _Not if they find a mate_ , his uncle, the only Alpha Kylo had grown up around, told him a few days after he presented. _They need us for safekeeping—to protect them. To save them from their hormones, from what they are. You know what would happen to them in the world, if they were given freedom._ Luke’s tone had been even, made firm by the depth of his conviction and by centuries of tradition. The righteousness of history’s victors. _In exchange for our guardianship, they keep our houses and bear our children. It is as it should be._

Kylo had said nothing, just like he had said nothing when his first courting Visit had been scheduled, and then a second and a third, and then several more. He had remained silent during too-rich dinners and never-ending afternoon teas, until the saccharine, cloying smell of Omegas barely past maturity had gotten stuck so deep in his nose that he was perennially sick with it.  

 _Just choose one_ , Luke had said, while Leia nodded behind him. _They’d be grateful. Their parents, too—You come from a good family. Just pick the one you like best._

Kylo hadn’t. Not the fourth girl he’d met, who had gotten on her knees for him as soon as he’d stepped inside her family’s ancestral home; nor the fifth, who during their Visit was so close to her heat that any other Alpha—Kylo had been informed—would have surely proposed on the spot; not even the one who had seemed mousy and quiet enough that Kylo had been sorely tempted to take her in, if only because it’d be easy to forget about her existence for long stretches of time, and it would allow him to put an end to the ridiculousness of this succession of Visits. But Kylo hadn’t picked, and there had been more Omegas, and more courting, and more Visits. Then Snoke had found him, and Kylo hadn’t spared a single thought for any of it ever since.

A lot can be said about Leia Organa, but not that she doesn’t keep her promises.

 _One last Visit_ , Kylo tells himself.

 

…

 

There is no Omega waiting for him in Unkar Plutt’s home. And that is even less surprising than the fact that Plutt’s property is little more than a junkyard, and that his home can only be defined as modest. It’s a far cry from the upper middle class atmosphere of the courting dinners Kylo was forced into a decade ago. How this specific Omega showed up on Leia’s radar, he truly cannot fathom. He’d ask, but he’s sure he doesn’t care. Instead he stares at Plutt’s angry stomping around as he ducks in and out of rooms and bellows for someone called ‘Rey’ in an increasingly menacing tone, muttering about stupid girls and how _he’d told her, he’d told her, and she_ never _does what she’s told._

Kylo can usually smell Omegas about fifty feet from the place they live, a nauseating sugariness which never fails to feel more viscous than blood in his mouth. Standing in the center of the living room, he inhales as deeply as he can, but he finds no trace of that specific scent, even when his lungs are full. Just Plutt and his smell, which manages to be overpowering and exceptionally disgusting, a noteworthy accomplishment considering he’s a Beta.

 _Fuck this shit_ , he thinks impatiently.

“I’ll be outside. Call me if he finds her,” he tells Leia, who’s fretting a little on the stained canvas couch. “Or don’t.”

At least there is green around the house—more than Kylo has seen in ages. Before Hungary and Latvia he was briefly in Afghanistan, and before that, six long months in various places in South America, and by the end of it, killing people in arid climates had begun to grate on him. This house, though, it’s a mess of uncut grass and tufts of wild flowers, and Kylo has never been very vegetation-oriented, but as he walks around the building he thinks that maybe sitting through this fucking Visit might be worthwhile, if he gets a hiking trip out of it.

And then. Then, he sees her.

She is holding a staff taller than her height, practicing complex martial forms against a tall block of concrete. When he turns the corner she is bringing up her knee and rotating her body for an overhead strike, which melts seamlessly into an uppercut. Then she comes to rest in a front stance, breathes deeply for a moment, and starts again with a side to side motion.

Kylo takes a step closer as a cool breeze rises in the courtyard, and—his world shifts on its axis.

She smells… different. Like nothing else. Like something made up. Her scent is simultaneously more subtle and sweeter than anything he’s ever experienced, and it feels as if it is being injected directly into his veins. It travels through him like a tidal wave and alters the makeup of his chemistry, and when the rush is over it leaves him standing there, hard and stupid and changed. Half-insane with it.

Kylo looks at her, and he smells her, and he thinks, _Fuck_. He thinks, _Yes_. He thinks, _I didn’t know. I couldn’t have known._ And he says: ”You should watch your right side.”

She turns to him immediately, staff raised in his direction in a defensive stance that is _almost_ perfect. Outstanding, his Omega.

“And you might want to bend your knee more.”

Her nostrils flare, pupils instantly widening. And then something seems to register, because she takes one step back, and another.

“You’re the Alpha. For the Visit. Shit—I’m late for—”

“It’s okay,” he tells her.

“Unkar is going to—”

“It’s okay,” he repeats, and this time it’s not just a suggestion. This time she quiets down and her scent loses that muddy surge of alarm, and—it’s a little bit like falling. This girl, she’s a little like gravity to him. “And you should lean back just a bit in your stance. Stay,” he orders as he moves closer, because she looks like she might run otherwise.

She immediately stills. He takes several steps, until he is standing in front of her and can finally see it: the way her shoulders heave as she opens her lungs to smell him more deeply.

She doesn’t say or do anything, except blink a few times. And then, after several moments, she inches in his direction, ever so slightly.

“Who taught you those forms?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “No one. Myself.” She is leaning towards him, now.

 _You smell so good, I’ve never wanted anything so badly._ “Are you trying to learn how to fight?”

“We don’t fight.” Omegas, she means. Omegas don’t fight. Omegas do other things sometimes; mostly they allow things to be done to them. But they never fight.

“That’s not an answer.”

She looks up at him and wets her lips. “I can fight already,” she says, calmly. “Almost.” They are breathing the same air, Kylo thinks. He is _full_ of her. Overflowing.

“You need a teacher.” She really is beautiful—but that’s just how Omegas are. And yet, this one—he could fuck this girl for days, he thinks. He would like to. “And you need an Alpha.”

She flushes and exhales. Her smell heats up and intensifies so much that for a moment Kylo thinks that he is about to do something very, _very_ wrong.

“Here you are.” Plutt’s voice is coming from somewhere on his left. It takes a superhuman effort for Kylo to reorient himself to him—that is, until Plutt steps closer and grips the Omega’s wrist. “Rey—I told you to get ready hours ago—”

He has no idea what happens after that. Only that Plutt is sputtering and Kylo is holding him against the concrete column; his soft neck is pliant with fat under Kylo’s crushing grip, which is mere seconds from smashing his trachea.

Kylo leans forward. “Touch the Omega again,” he finds himself hissing in Plutt’s ear. “And I’ll cut off your hands. Maybe even your head.”

 

…

 

Leia stares out of the car window, displaying a considerably larger amount of faith in Kylo’s driving than she did some thirteen years ago, when she took it upon herself to give him lessons for no reason other than to spite Han. She has said nothing, since they left Plutt’s residence.

“What happens now?”

She turns to him. “Take I-55. Can you drop me off at my—”

“How do I _have_ her?”

Leia snorts. “You know what would have helped? Not assaulting her Beta guardian.” Kylo remains silent until she adds, “I’ll set up a second Visit. Courting is usually at least eight initial Visits, and then—”

“No.” He forces his grip to relax on the wheel. “Not eight.”

After a while, Leia nods. “I can tell that you... liked her, but you have to understand, there might not be a—”

“No.” It’s beginning to drizzle. Kylo activates the windscreen wipers and slows the car until it matches the speed limit.

Leia sighs. She smells like a combination of concern and satisfaction. “I’ll see what I can do.”

 

…

 

She’s wearing a long white dress and her hair is loose down her back, longer and a touch darker than he expected. It’s a proper courting dinner, this one, a meal with multiple courses that Plutt somehow scraped together; the customary handlers who should always be chaperoning the Omega stand in the corners of the room.

Kylo can’t stop staring. Rey can’t stop staring, either, but she does a better job of hiding it, occasionally lowering her gaze to her soup, or glancing at Leia as she tries to keep up a semblance of polite conversation. The weather has been unusually warm this year, have you heard about that new hotel they are building downtown, Anatolia serves the most authentic baklava, even Turkish people say so.

“Ben, you’ve been to Turkey, right?” Leia gives him one of her ‘a little help here, please’ looks. “For work?”

He tears his eyes from the high neckline of Rey’s dress. Her scent glands are somewhere underneath, he knows. “Yes.”

“Which cities?” Rey asks, leaning at bit in his direction. They have been sat at opposite ends of the table, and even Kylo has to admit that it’s probably for the best.

“Istanbul and Ankara. Izmir. Bursa. Several places on the Black Sea coast.” Rey’s pupils are getting larger—whether because an Alpha is talking to her or at the mention of faraway places, it’s impossible to tell. “Do you want to go to Turkey?”

She smiles, somehow managing not to look bitter. “I don’t think it’s a possibility.”

“Why?”

She shrugs, and her otherworldly scent drifts towards him. An answer by proxy. “Because.”

Kylo shrugs, too. “It will depend on your Alpha, won’t it?” There is no way anyone at the table is not fully aware of the meaning of his words. _It will depend on me. And I will take you wherever you want._

Leia clears her throat, a knife clinks against a plate, and someone comes in from the kitchen area with a cake and begins to slice it, offering a piece first to Leia, and then Kylo.

“I’m not hungry anymore,” Rey says, biting into her lip. “Can we go for a walk?”

She is asking for permission, and not from Plutt. Her eyes are on Kylo, and he nods. His chair drags noisily on the floor as he stands, ignoring Leia’s worried intake of breath and Plutt’s sullen mumbling that, “The handlers will join you, of course.”

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” she tells him outside, amidst the clover and the dandelion. It’s still light enough that he can see the red in her hair, the freckles on her face and throat. She has a British accent. Try as he might, Kylo cannot imagine how someone like _her_ ended up _here_. "I'm Rey."

“Kylo.”

She tilts her head. “You mother calls you Ben.”

“Kylo is… what some people call me. At work.”

“Oh.” She bites into her thumbnail, but doesn’t seem nervous. “What do you want _me_ to call you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

She nods. “And what do you do? At work?”

“I’m a businessman,” he answers automatically.

“Mmm.” She lifts her hand to his face, first tracing the jut of his jaw and then moving to the long, forgotten line of his scar. Kylo racks his head, but he cannot remember the last time he didn’t kill someone for touching him without his explicit permission. “What do you really do?”

“I am an… enforcer.”

“What do you enforce?”

“Whatever the man I work for wants me to.”

Rey looks up at him, so calm. So unbothered by the obvious implication. She nods, and makes to take her hand away. He stops her with his fingers around her wrist, pressing her palm against his cheek. From the corner of his eye, he can see her handlers heading hurriedly towards them, no doubt with the thought of preserving the Omega’s virginity. As if she won’t be full of his come less than a month from now.

“You would really teach me to how to fight?” Rey asks, her thumb extending to graze the corner of his mouth.

 _Whatever you want, Omega._ “Yes.”

When the handlers separate them, Rey is grinning broadly.

 

…

 

They watch a movie, on their third Visit. Only one of Rey’s handlers is present, a middle-aged Beta whose expression unfailingly resembles a dried prune. She sits a few feet behind them and knits a gray, shapeless hat, paying what is probably not enough attention to either the film or Kylo.

“I’ve never had a third meeting. Or a second, really,” Rey says, halfway through a chase sequence that is so unrealistic, it’s all Kylo can do not to roll his eyes. People in his line of work should never watch action movies. “I once told Unkar that I would rather die than let an Alpha touch me.”

They are not inappropriately close, not by any means. But certainly close enough that Rey’s hand can reach to overturn Kylo’s. To trace the lines on his palm: the long one that surrounds the thumb, the curve that joins his index and little finger. The groove of a small scar she finds on his wrist.

“Did you?” After this, Kylo will head home and smell her on himself for days. He is probably going to jack off with his nose in his palm, and it won’t be anywhere near enough.

Rey nods, still staring at his hand.

 _I’m going to do a lot more than touch you_ , he thinks. There is no need to say it. There is no reality in which she cannot smell the fact that he’s as hard as a stone. That he’d fuck her now if he could, and that he’d keep her knotted for days, even weeks afterwards.

“He will want money. Unkar. He will want money to let me go. It was the whole point of taking an Omega in.”

For all that her scent is scorched in his brain, he doesn’t know Rey very well. And yet, he can hear it, the question, half buried in the evenness of her tone.

“I’ve got you,” he tells her.

 

…

 

“I thought you wanted me to get her out of there.”

“I did. I do. The Omega foster system is…” Leia is scratching her head. Kylo has seen more of his mother is the past two weeks than in the last decade, and he finds it very odd, how her little mannerisms have not changed since he was a child. “I do. I also don’t want you to rush into anything.”

“Noted.”

“It’s just… I hope you realize it. That she seems to be… not that type of Omega.”

“I was unaware that there is more than one type.”

Leia sighs. “Ben.”

There is no need to prevaricate. Kylo leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. “You know I can take her whenever I want. You know it, and Plutt knows it, and most importantly, Rey knows it. How this goes down, it’s up to you.”

The bonding ceremony is set for the following week.

 

…

 

In the traditional bonding vows, Omegas are not consulted or given a chance to consent.

When the officiant begins to speak, Rey grabs Kylo’s hand painfully tight, and doesn’t let go until he says, “I do.”

Then her grip relaxes and her scent quiets.

 

…

 

Once Kylo presented, Han and Leia tried to keep him in the mixed school he had been attending since he was five, but it rapidly became clear that he was not the kind of Alpha to whom Betas reacted positively, or who tolerated them very well. His parents had had no choice but to enroll him in an Alpha-only school, and it had been there that Kylo had first heard of it.

Talk of Omegas, of fucking Omegas and breeding them, of slick and heats and tight, welcoming cunts, had been just as common as the fights and the posturing and the battles for dominance. Kylo never had any interest in most of it, the fucking and the mindless fighting, so he genuinely hadn’t understood when, during study hall, a group of ninth graders had beckoned him into the Computer Lab to show him pictures they’d found who knows where.

“It’s a mating gland,” one had said, pointing at a bare spot below a pale nape, framed by jutting shoulder blades and a lock of blond hair on the right. A small stretch of flesh almost indistinguishable from the surrounding skin. “That’s where you…”

The scent in the room had gotten thick and horny and aggressive, disgusting to any Alpha’s nose, and yet no one had been able to leave as long that picture was on the screen. No one except for Kylo, who had felt absolutely nothing except for a vague sense of power and superiority.

When Rey kneels in front of him at the end of the bonding ritual, hands on the floor and forehead touching her knees, Kylo’s head spins and his knees buckle, and he thinks that maybe, _maybe_ , he is not as strong as he thought.

 

…

 

According to Leia, bringing one’s new mate to a hotel room or an unfurnished apartment is poor etiquette, so Kylo buys Rey a house in a gated community for Alpha/Omega pairings. He’d rather live in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by no one, but he knows that at some point he’ll have to travel again for his job. Maybe Rey will be able to make friends, here. Not feel alone when he’s gone.

She seems to take a liking to the place—smiles and waves at the small Omega in the house across from theirs while Kylo and the other Alpha size each other up distrustfully, marvels at the large garden and the quaint little pond, and sighs when she sees the bay windows, her fingers tracing the smoothness of the freshly painted walls.

“It doesn’t _feel_ like a cage,” she murmurs as she ventures deeper into the first floor.

It is, a cage. Her entire life is a cage, made of hormones and traditions and Alphas’ whims and circumstances that are altogether outside of her control. It’s not that Kylo doesn’t realize the unfairness of it. It’s that the only thing he can do for Rey is to make that cage as large and comfortable as possible. So that maybe she will lose sight of its bars.

He finds her standing in the middle of the largest room in the house—an empty expanse of hardwood floors and glass walls.

“We can train, in here.”

She spins around.

“Train?”

“Combat. Or whatever. If you still want to learn.”

She tilts her head. Until a few minutes ago her hair had been done up in a complicated braid—probably by his mother. Now it falls wavy and thick on her shoulders, making her look even lovelier than usual. “You didn’t lie, then.”

“No. I habitually don’t.”

She steps closer to him, and then closer still, until her smell is the only thing left in the air. It makes him dizzy, almost.

“I don’t know what’s so different, about you.”

 _I don’t know either._ It takes him a few seconds, to realize that he said it out loud.

She nods and smiles, looking genuinely happy. “Good thing we have a long time to figure it out.”

He just stares at her as she begins to undo the buttons of the dress she changed into after the ceremony, his cock getting harder with every inch of skin that she uncovers. _Don’t knot a virgin. You cannot knot a virgin_ , he thinks, but she’s his mate, and there is already a pressure there, at the top of his balls, that speaks of a losing game. If he were a good person, he’d just not fuck her until he’s more under control. Of course, that is not the case.

“Do I please you, Alpha?” she asks once her dress has pooled around her feet. They sound like ritual words, but he can smell it, how much she genuinely wants to know the answer. So he forces himself to nod.

“Should I go on my knees?”

“No.” He swallows. “No. I want you to turn around.”

There is slick dribbling down her thighs, a shiny coat on the golden landscape of her skin. Kylo wants to lick it up, he wants to look at it trickle some more, he wants to swap it with his come. He wants her sloshing full of it.

“Ben. What should I—What do you want me to…”

He shakes his head, and then realizes that she can’t see him. So he runs his palm over her ass and his fingers through the folds of her cunt, marveling at the plump softness of her. It should probably feel depraved, but it’s as if for the first time in his life there’s a sense of purpose to him. _This is it. This what I'm here for._

“Bend a little forward, arms against the wall. Feet wider—like that.” His voice sounds firm, yet gentle. He feels anything but. “I’m going to fuck you, and I’m going to bite you, and that will be it. It will be done.”

She is splendidly tight as he settles inside her, gritting his teeth with the effort to not just spill and bite her. He listens to her little moans, watches the way her shoulders heave and feels her stretch and pulse and flutter around him as he squeezes her breasts, leaves bruises on her hips. Then he sets a slow pace, more for himself than her. Trying to make it last.  

“Ben—”

“Ssh. Be good, and I’ll give it to you.”

When she comes around his knot he bites her gland until he draws blood, and Rey laughs and cries at the same time. It feels like the beginning of the rest of his life.

 

…

 

He sleeps past six the following morning—the first time in memory since he was a teenager. He stirs at 7:30 and finds Rey curled in on herself, in the crook of his body. He pulls her closer, rubs his nose against one of the glands on her neck, and then pulls her even deeper into himself before passing out again.

The next time he wakes, it’s because there are fingers carding through his hair, and a soft voice asking him what he wants for breakfast.

“I can make pancakes. I think.” A small hesitation; a nip at his jaw. “Well, I have the recipe. I’d honestly feel more comfortable making toast, but—”

“Not hungry.” Kylo snakes his arm around her waist and drags her down to the mattress, half underneath him. “Come back to bed.”

Rey giggles. “No. I have to make breakfast for you. It’s a whole thing. After that I’m supposed to ask you about your daily needs and inspect the state of the house and come up with a plan to ensure that you—”

He shuts her up with a nip on her throat, captivated by the way her voice melts into a sigh, by the sharp lines of her ribcage, by her breasts. He thought he knew how perfect she was _before_ , but now he’s had her, and he finally understands. He slides one thumb over a hard nipple and she arches up with a mewling sound, falling apart in a puddle of slick right in his arms.

“We can’t—there are traditions, rules, that—”

“Fuck the rules.”

He has been thinking about eating her out since the very first day he saw her. He wants to lap at her until she cannot stand it anymore, until she is bone dry, until her ripe cunt is molded into the shape of his mouth. He does all of it, keeping her hips still when she tries to grind against his face, biting the inside of her thigh in warning when she tries to back away from the pleasure.

When he can bear to stop, he comes up her body and pins her hands above her head, using his knees to hold her thighs apart and flush to the mattress as he pushes into her. His knot never really went down since last night. It’s still a bit swollen, tender and sensitive and madly in love with her.

“Too much?” he asks, as he manages to stuff it inside with a few blunt thrusts.

Rey throws back her head and moans as she nods frantically. Ben feels a pulse of fresh slick trickle down his balls.

“Mmm. I think you’re alright,” he tells her, and fucks into her deeper and harder.

 

…

 

“What the fuck is _family leave_?”

Kylo interprets that as a rhetorical question, and continues with his explanation. “According to Ren 3’s intel, the son is not in the know, and would likely detach himself from the family business if he was. That is not to say that he won’t retaliate if we call a hit on the father, but—”

“I cannot believe Snoke _approved_ it.” Hux sounds like his usual, petulant self.

Kylo sighs. “I’ve accrued several months in vacation time.” Years. They all have.

“Still. That’s not how things work.”

“Clearly it is.”

A huff. “When will you be back?”

“Six months. Probably on a reduced load.”

“Six months—what the fuck is this? You don’t even have a fami—” The line goes quiet for several moments. “You did not take a mate, did you? Tell me you didn’t take an Omega.”

It’s supposed to be a briefing phone call. Just some recon and planning. Kylo did not sign up for _this_ , so he just remains silent, and waits for Hux to get back to the original topic.

“What do _you_ even do with an Omega?”

Kylo sighs.

He fucks her, for sure. A lot. But that’s just—they also talk and argue and sometimes she even makes him laugh, which feels rusty and a little bizzare, and Kylo knows more about the workings of turbo Diesel engines than he ever thought he’d care to, and once she actually sat him down and explained to him how American football works, without even being _American_ , and another time she made him watch an entire baseball game, and the other day she disarmed him of his quarterstaff and he didn’t even see it coming, and when she smiles... God, when she smiles.

He fucks her a lot, too, but that’s just…

“Holy shit. Just… Holy shit.”

Kylo sighs, again. “As I was saying, the infighting might be something we’ll be able to play up, but—”

“Holy shit.”

 

…

 

“Is she pregnant yet?” Leia asks when they talk on the phone. It’s not the first time, nor the second. And it’s not rude, either, because Rey is not a Beta nor an Alpha, and even people as progressive as Kylo’s mother have been conditioned to see Omegas as little more than breeding machines with feelings and the occasional thought.

“No.” He is watching her tinker with the microwave oven, which yesterday made a weird sound and then abruptly stopped working. Kylo wanted to replace it, but Rey put her foot down. In another life, she’d have been a mechanic. An engineer.

“It’s been five months.” Leia sounds mildly concerned. Nothing new on that front.

“Not yet,” he repeats.

“Has she had a heat?”

Kylo doesn’t answer.

 

…

 

The Alpha doctor smiles condescendingly at Rey, and informs her that she can wait in the adjacent room, _right through the door on the left_. Her expression darkens, but she hops off the examination table and makes her way out, brushing her arm against Kylo’s as she does so.

“It’s not unusual for Omegas’ heat cycles to be irregular before mating. But after, they tend to stabilize relatively quickly. Within weeks. When they don’t…” He shrugs, throwing his hands up. _Omega bodies_ , it seems to mean. “She is almost twenty, and I can’t see anything wrong in her tests. It’s obvious that she was malnourished in the past, which could lead to assorted complications. As far as I can tell, it’s entirely possible that she might never have a heat.”

The doctor looks at him expectantly, and Kylo wonders what he can possibly say to that.

“Of course, it is ground for an annulment, if you so wish. It’s complicated, to biologically undo a bonding. But possible.”

Kylo stands from his chair, and nods his goodbyes.

 

…

 

He bought her chairs. They own chairs, but she seems to prefer perching on furniture, tables and counters and some days he comes home to find her reading on the steps, and now, now she has been sitting for at least two hours on the bookshelf by the window. Looking across the pond, chewing on her lower lip and swinging her legs every few minutes.

Kylo has been staring at her for too long.

“Let’s order in.”

She doesn’t look away. “Mmm. Yes.”

“Any preferences?”

“Not Italian.”

“You love Italian.”

“But we always have Italian.”

“Not always. Sometimes.”

“And _you_ hate it.”

He didn’t think she had realized. He pushes away from the doorjamb and walks to her. “I don’t _hate_ it.” He just doesn’t _like_ it.

“Right. You just don’t like it.”

He didn’t tell her what the doctor said, and he wonders now if maybe that was a mistake. He wonders if this thing, this sweetness between them, means that she can read his mind. He wonders where it is that he ends, precisely. If Rey was taken away from him now, what would be left of himself except for gnarled ends?

“What should I get, then?”

She finally looks away from the window, to him. Studies him in silence for a few moments. “Do you hate me?”

Kylo huffs out a laugh, and Rey smiles back. She leans forward to grab the hem of his shirt and pull him closer, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. Moments later, he feels his skin become sticky and wet.

“Rey,” he sighs, pressing her into himself. “Rey.”

Her voice is muffled through flesh and cotton. “Tell me, if you ever hate me. Please.”

Kylo holds her head to his throat and thinks of how sleepy she always is in the morning. Of the way she takes him by surprise when she attacks him from below, of the last hiking trip they took because she had never seen a cave. Of her obsession with anything that blooms, of the way she makes herself come with her fingers while sucking him off, of their fights for the TV remote. He remembers what the doctor said and he wonders, that, that, _that_. How could you ever undo _that_?

He wishes he could explain. He wishes he had the words. He wishes he could crack his chest open and show her. He used to think he was incapable of anything but hate. Before.

“Until you,” he murmurs into her hair.

 

…

 

Before his neck snaps in two, Plutt cries like a child.

 

…

 

Her smell hits him as soon as he comes home—not different, but more intense. Louder. Very fuckable, even more than usual.

Kylo wouldn’t think much of it, but there is also the fact that she appears in the hallway as soon as he has locked the door behind him and activated the alarm. It’s not that she’s not generally happy to see him, but she tends to be too taken by whatever she’s doing to notice that he’s back from work. Today, though, she almost runs up to him and wraps her arms around his neck, rubbing herself against him like a kitten.

“Rey?”

“I missed you.”

He pushes back, feeling her forehead with his palm. She seems a little warmer than usual, but not by much. “Are you feeling okay?”

She nods, but leans further into him, closing the space between them. “How are you? Your day?”

“Fine. Good.”

“Do you think we could just… hang out before dinner?”

“Hang out?”

“Yeah. I actually cooked, for once, but I just wanted to…” She hugs him tighter. When it still doesn’t seem to be enough, when she looks like she’s about to climb him like a tree, he picks her up with his hands on her backside, guiding her legs until they’re wrapped around his waist. “Just… can we sit together for a bit? On the couch, maybe? Or something?”

“Of course.” He tries not to show his concern.

“Do you have to work, tomorrow?” She licks his gland—not the kittenish dart he is used to, but a large, enthusiastic swipe. Kylo almost groans. It sounds like she’s had a rough day and just wants to cuddle, but he’s not sure he can hide how hard he is becoming under her ass.

“Yes.”

“Do you have to go?”

He has to lead a black op and coordinate a team of snipers. “Yes.”

“Okay. Okay, I guess…” Rey bites into her lower lip, and then nuzzles his throat for a few moments. She doesn’t seem to be fully aware that her hips have begun to grind against his abs. “Do you mind if I…” She gasps and hangs her head, and Kylo lifts a hand to her waist, to help her get more friction. Her slick is seeping through her shorts and his button-down, making a mess between them. Almost automatically, he reaches around Rey and pins both her wrists to the small of her back.

“If you?” Kylo’s heartbeat explodes in his chest as she leans forward to kiss him, first her tongue licking the inside of his mouth and then—then just the two of them, panting clumsily on each other’s lips as Rey moves her hips up and down. Just the two of them, breathing the same air.

“Sweetheart. I can fuck you. I could open you up and fill you and—”

“No time,” she exhales, rubbing herself harder against him. He uses one hand to take himself out of his jeans, and his cock nestles in the fold of her ass, a blissful friction that is not quite _enough_. Her nipples are as hard as diamonds, even through the layers of their clothing. “No time. I’m just going—If you don’t mind, I’ll just—”

She comes before she can finish the sentence, and the smell and sound of her, it makes him spurt all over her rounded cheeks, his knot pulsating in the cool air of the room.

Kylo truly does _not_ mind.

 

…

 

The following day, he gets the first text as he and Ren 4 are loading their weapons.

 

 **Rey** <I decided to do laundry>

 **Rey** <(though I didn’t, I couldn’t find the detergent. Where do we keep it, again?)>

 **Rey** <Anyway, I noticed that your clothes smell _so good_ >

 **Rey** <I don’t know, I miss you, today.>

 **Rey** <More than usual.>

 

Kylo’s heart skips a beat, then another, like it always does when it’s reminded of Rey’s existence and of his place in it. He answers _< I’ll be home soon>_ and then pushes the phone down into his pocket.

The second text, he reads while Phasma is giving the last mission briefing in a fittingly red-tailored suit.

 

 **Rey** <You always taste so good>

 **Rey** <Your sweat>

 **Rey** <And your skin>

 **Rey** <And when you come inside my mouth>

 **Rey** <I just realized that maybe I never told you, and I wanted you to know>

 

His brain blanks for a moment. Utter quiet and stillness as every last neuron in his nervous system freezes into inactivity.

“Kylo. You with us?”

He shakes himself out of it, nods briskly, and motions to Phasma—who apparently can read minds—to move on. 

The third group of texts, he finds when the mission is well underway, and he, Hux, and Ren 2 have taken cover behind a low stone wall. If he wants to get out of this alive, ideally his hands should not to be shaking; unfortunately, that train leaves the station at several hundred miles per hour.

 

 **Rey** <I don’t know if it’s true>

 **Rey** <Maybe I’m wrong>

 **Rey** <But I think I’m going into heat>

 **Rey** <Please, Ben>

 **Rey** <I feel so hollow>

 **Rey** <Please, come home and fuck me>

 

…

 

He finds her asleep in their bed, looking small and vulnerable on top of sheets drenched with sweat and slick, one hand curled around the shirt he’s worn to bed for the past three nights.

Her smell is _blinding_. It smothers any conscious thought he might have retained and almost has him keeling over with the intensity of it, sex and Rey and undiluted, pure, atomic fucking. He stares at the obscenely shiny curve of her ass and stands by the door, hard as a pike, leaking. His hand moves to unzip the fly of his pants of its own free will, cupping his knot, pumping up and down his cock because it _hurts_ , it hurts not to touch her, but she is resting and she looks so tired. His electrons begin to spin in a different orbit, chanting _his, his, his, she is his. She is his, and she was in pain, she was all alone, but now he has found her, and he’ll take care of her. Perfect, his perfect, beautiful, wet little—_

“Ben?” She blinks drowsily a few times, barely lifting her head from the pillow. Her body is trembling slightly. “Ben, can you...”

He’s on the bed in less than a second, hovering over her, turning her so that he can lick her mating gland in long swipes. Her skin is boiling hot, and it tastes _unbelievable_.

She arches, trying to get more contact with him. “Am I… Is this a heat?”

He grunts into her skin, thinking that whatever this is, he is going to see her through it. _I feel hollow,_ she’d said. He is going to fuck her until there is no space left inside of her. “Maybe. Yes, yes. God, Rey, you smell indecent. You smell so _good_.”

She moans. “Will you help me? Will you—”

There is a drop of sweat running down the side of her face. Or maybe it’s a tear. Kylo bends down to lick it up.

“I’ll take care of you,” he tells her. “Let me take care of you.”

 

…

 

“What if she is like me?”

Kylo smiles. He has long stopped asking Rey why she insists on saying ‘she’, and has begun to think of it as a girl, too. He continues rubbing lotion into the extended flesh of her tummy, until Rey’s smell is even and peaceful, mixed with almond milk and cocoa butter. “Isn’t that the whole point?”

Rey laughs. “Nah. I kinda like your ears. And your nose. And your giant hands. And—” She yelps when he nips at the skin just above her hip bone.

“She’ll have freckles,” he tells her, maybe too decisively. What does he know, after all?

“Mmm. You know how many freckles could fit, though, on a nose as big as—”

He nips at her again, and she lets out a peal of laughter.

Kylo just looks up at her, kneeling between her legs, and feels the world right itself.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A million thanks to [voicedimplosives](https://archiveofourown.org/users/voicedimplosives/pseuds/voicedimplosives), who is the best beta that my ESL ass could ever wish for. She spent a billion hours making this shitshow of a fic into something readable and I’m kind of embarrassed but she’s the best ever and I owe her immensely! FYI, she recently wrote one of my [fave canonverse fics](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15971054/chapters/37252994).
> 
> If you liked what you just read, you might want to check out the [fic I borrowed a lot of the world-building from](https://archiveofourown.org/works/989923)!
> 
> You can find me [on Twitter](https://twitter.com/EverSoReylo?lang=en)! ♡
> 
> Please check out this [lovely moodboard](http://sofondabooks.tumblr.com/post/179489034519/until-you-by-ever-so-reylo-abo-verse-one) sofondabooks made, it's truly the best ♡.  
> ETA: Avamarga made art for this fic and it's all I've ever wanted from life.[ Please go look at it, it's stunning!!!](https://twitter.com/avamarga_/status/1095439758258429953)♡♡♡.  
> 


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